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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25770301">Harry Potter and the Generational Curse</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleFotia/pseuds/BleFotia'>BleFotia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:22:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,669</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25770301</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleFotia/pseuds/BleFotia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter, last of the House of Potter, begins to learn the secrets of his family, of a dark curse that has plagued them for generations, and of the true reasons his family was targeted that fateful night in 1981.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b> <em>A/N: I have changed a number of things, so this may be considered AU. Basic changes that I am comfortable revealing at this stage include these things; Harry’s paternal grandparents are Charlus and Dorea Potter. I have changed their ages slightly so as to fit them better within the timeline of the story and its premise. I plan on going into depth at points about magical theory, which may, at times, conflict with J.K. Rowling’s statements on the subject. I will not follow many canon pairings, expressly Harry/Ginny. The pairing for the story is as of yet undecided, but rest assured that it will not be Harry/Ginny. More will be revealed as the story progresses. I hope you all enjoy.</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Prologue - The Curse</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 1939 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tom Riddle had just stepped off the Hogwarts express to begin his second year at Hogwarts, and already he had stopped dead in his tracks. Before him stood an absolute vision of beauty, the likes of which he had not seen before. Tom considered himself a noble person, above the normal human emotions of <em> love </em> or <em> infatuation </em>, but the woman who stood before him made him question that immediately. She was beauty incarnate to his eyes, and he stood stock still to watch her until some oaf pushed him forward, out of the way of the train’s exit. He watched her walk towards the carriages, her longer strides and height marking her as some upper year to him, but that did not daunt him. He swore that he would find all he could find about the vision before him, and she would be his.</p><hr/><p>Dorea Black was her name. Tom had seen her with a group of fifth year Slytherins just the week before, and had heard her answer to the name. Her pure family may have set her above his lowly upbringing for now, but, he thought, when he rose to greatness, she surely would have to take notice of his undisputed power and strength. He spent his free time following her from a distance, where he was sure he would not be noticed. That night, he had noticed as she attempted to sneak from the common room unseen, and hurried out after her. Sticking to the shadows, Tom watched as she met with… a boy? His gaze narrowed into a glare as some upstart consorted with <em> his </em>queen! He drew his wand to make the boy pay before he noticed something even worse, the scarlet trim on his robes, and the glint of a silver badge. Tom had, as all intelligent students who wished to sneak about the castle at night had, memorized the prefect’s patrol schedule. There was only one Gryffindor male prefect assigned to tonight’s roster. Charlus Potter.</p><hr/><p>
  <em> 1942 </em>
</p><p>Tom Riddle glared at the <em> Daily Prophet </em> in the corner of his dorm. The newly minted fifth year Slytherin Prefect was furious. The wedding announcement was three pages in, but closing the paper did not remove the words from his mind’s eye. <em> Heir of House Potter, Charlus Potter to Marry Daughter of House Black, Dorea Black. </em> The bold words flashed again as he slammed his eyes shut to hold back the burning tears. His sadness boiled over inside of him, and he slammed his Occlumency down <em> hard </em>, willing it to vanish forever. He then blinked as the feelings disappeared. He paused for a moment, concerned, before lifting his mental barriers to see if the feelings would return. They didn’t. He felt a surge of panic, before he reacted and shut that off too. He lifted them again, waiting to see what came of this new development. All that remained was his cold fury. Without pause, he clamped down on his other emotions, those he found useless, ridding himself of their taint. All that remained in the end was his anger, and his promise to make those who caused him this pain to suffer without respite.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> 1978 </em>
</p><p>Severus Snape was having a <em> very </em> bad day. This was, in all things considered, very typical for the young wizard, ever since the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. He had been on his way to the apothecary to replenish his ingredient stores, when he saw <em> them </em> . That horrible Potter, corrupting the perfect Lily Evans, <em> his </em> perfect Lily Evans. Ever since that day he had slipped up, no, he had mistakenly called her that forsaken word. He cursed that blasted Potter and his stupid friends for making him slip. Of course, he reasoned to himself, Lily was of lesser blood, but he could help her make up for that. His attentions would protect her, and give her a higher purpose. He alone would be able to help her survive the war, why couldn’t she see that? Why couldn’t she understand that he was simply doing this for her? Of course, he expected her to repay him for his efforts, but only with the love he was showing her. His love was true, he repeated to himself as Lily and Potter made faces at each other in front of the Honeydukes storefront, why wouldn’t she just realize that?</p><hr/><p>
  <em> 1981 </em>
</p><p>Severus Snape dropped to his knees, slamming them against the floor of the ruined nursery, his eyes locked on the still-cooling corpse of the only woman he had ever loved. He gently gathered her up in his arms, holding her close. He flinched then, as the sound of a young child crying started up. He placed the body of his love gently back on the ground, drawing his wand as he did so. A malevolent expression of rage crossed his face as he beheld the greatest failure of his life. Laying there was the tainted mixture of his perfect Lily, and that disgusting Potter. <em> Potter is the reason she is dead, isn’t he? </em> Severus thought to himself. <em> Potter is to blame, if only she had understood my love </em> , <em> I could have kept her from the Dark Lord. Lily may be gone </em> , Severus thought, <em> but I can cleanse her memory right now…. </em> His wand slowly rose to point at the now silent babe. A familiar incantation rose to his lips as he stared at the disgusting child. Then, a clatter came from the stairs as heavy footfalls approached. Severus glared once more at the child, swearing that the Potter line would feel his wrath one day, in the end, and twisted on the spot, disappearing into the air.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> ???? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The dark figure watched the images play out in the bowl, before waving them away with his wand. The poor young fools would one day be harmed by the same bloodline as he, with their loves stolen like his. He spared only a quick glance at the half completed portrait that sat on the damp stone walls, before returning to the stone basin that held the strange oily water. Another image appeared, this time of multiple people, all men. Each held a similar look in their eyes, even though their clothing and faces were all different. The same look was visible in his eyes, day after day, ever since that cursed <em> Potter </em> had stolen his beloved Leliana. A thought struck him at that moment, and his wand whipped out over the basin. The picture changed to one of a man with messy dark hair, almost distinctively so. The unknown wizard summoned a dark red vial from a side cabinet, pouring it over the frozen image of the man. He sliced his own palm with a charm, letting the blood spill into the basin. He began waving an intricate pattern over the image, words in an ancient language pouring from his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> King of skies, hear my prayer </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I have been wronged, beyond compare. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> A gift of blood, given freely </em>
</p><p>
  <em> In return, I ask a boon for me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Curse the one who’s wrong me so, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And give those like me, those I know. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> For each son of Potter, for those they wrong </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Let them hear this most ancient song. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> When a Potter steals a mate, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Give those wronged something to compensate. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> All the knowledge I have to harm, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Gift those souls, to claim that which they lost. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Gift of magic, gift of life </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Spread this curse beyond my time. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> This final curse, revenge from me, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Grow to be what you need to be. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> This final curse, this generational curse, be laid upon the Potter line. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> So I say, so mote it be, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And take this price from me that you need. </em>
</p><p><br/>The darkly dressed wizard dropped to the ground, still and silent as the night beyond his window.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 1 -</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <em>A/N: Hello again all. I do hope you found the prologue interesting. I’m hoping that this story is a little unique, as I’ve yet to see any fics that take this premise. I had meant to update yesterday, so as to keep to a twice-a-month update schedule, however, we had experienced weird issues with our internet last night. Regardless, here is the first complete chapter. Enjoy</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chapter 1- Getting Back</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1995</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry Potter laid on the rickety old bed, staring at the pale white ceiling above him. He was horribly bored, as all of his possessions were already packed away, awaiting the time that Professor Albus Dumbledore would be arriving to get him away from this overly muggle house. His mind drifted back over the summer, thinking back over the letters that were in now safely packed into his school trunk. Some from Hermione and Ron, his two best friends, one long and rambling, one short and to the point, both saying the same thing - that they couldn’t say more until Harry was away from the Dursely’s. Ron’s letter was the short one, but he didn’t need too many words to get his points across. Harry smiled as he thought about how quickly Ron managed to get across his three points; Hope you’re safe, see you soon, and look at the Cannon’s new chaser play. Hermione’s letters were much, </span>
  <em>
    <span>much,</span>
  </em>
  <span> longer. She touched on everything from how she was reviewing the last three year’s work, to psychological tips she had read to help him cope with Cedric (nothing overly obvious, of course, she seemed to think he wouldn’t understand why she mentioned several things as hobbies that people with PTSD typically took up to help cope.), to the latest paper in </span>
  <em>
    <span>Potions Monthly</span>
  </em>
  <span>, to asking about his summer, to their N.E.W.T.s, and several other things, all fast enough that Harry’s head was left spinning after reading it all. He grinned fondly just thinking of how he must’ve spent less time on his Herbology essay than trying to read Hermione’s eight page letter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry sighed, looking over at the alarm clock next to his bed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>4:30 p.m.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Two and a half hours until Dumbledore was supposed to arrive to collect him. Harry pulled himself out of the bed, meandering over to the door to his room, considering a journey to the local park. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he quietly made his way past the entrance to the living room, and out the door. Whistling to himself as he strolled down the streets, Harry took note of the uncharacteristically cold weather that afternoon, glad he had pulled on a long sleeve shirt before he had left, but pushed it from his mind as he mounted one of the swings. He sat there for a while, thoughts drifting from subject to subject, simply taking in the peace, until Dudley and his gang arrived. Harry could hear them a while off, shouting swear words and violent phrases at each other and any kids younger or smaller than them that so happened to walk past. Harry gently swang back and forth, watching them slowly grow closer, until they noticed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Oh, if it isn’t little Harry-kins, out and about. Still thinking about your boyfriend, Potter? What’s his name again? Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cedric</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that’s right! God, I can barely sleep with all your moaning for Cedric, Potter.” Dudley sneered as he talked, his gang laughing behind him. Harry set his jaw, knuckles turning white as he grasped the chains of the swing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I’ll bet you miss your little boyfriend at night, don’t you, Potter? Probably thinking about all of the times he’s buggered you, the bloody fa-” Harry’s fist connected with Dudley’s face in an instant as he flew off of the swing at the larger boy. The thugs behind Dudley froze with shock for a second, before beginning to surge towards the cousins. Harry’s wand spun out of his sleeve and into his hand, quickly being placed at the large boy’s throat, hidden behind his mass so that his thuggish friends couldn’t see it. Dudley raised his hand out, stopping them in their place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Don’t insult Cedric Diggory in front of me, ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Big D’</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Call off your friends, it’s about time for me to leave anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piers, take the fellas back to that fish and chips joint, I’ll meet you there. Let me just, ‘walk Potter home.’ I’ll be there in a few.” Piers Polkiss nodded at Dudley, leading the rest of their gang off in the direction they had come. Harry flicked his wand back into his sleeve, before beginning to walk back in the direction of Privet Drive. Dudley waited a moment before following Harry back towards the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Dudley’s fist meeting the back of his head was not what Harry expected when he heard footsteps behind him. He staggered forward for a second, only for a shove to propel him the rest of the way to the ground. He heard a quiet </span>
  <em>
    <span>crack</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as the left lens of his glasses shattered on the pavement. Flipping quickly, Harry dodged out of the way of the stomp that had been aiming for him. Harry pushed himself up into a crouch as Dudley reared back for another punch, trying to get himself some space. As Dudley’s fist came flying at him, Harry suddenly felt an unfortunately familiar feeling, one of coldness and despair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dudley, sto-” Dudley’s fist met the side of his face this time. The feeling Harry recognized as the Dementor’s aura slowly grew stronger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Screw you, freak! Trying to humiliate me in front of the boys, were you? And now you try to use your freak witchcraft to scare me? It won’t work!” His fists began flying towards Harry faster, fear making his voice crack. Harry stumbled backwards, urgently grasping up his sleeve in search of his wand. Finding nothing, panic began to join the despair, and Harry wildly swung his head around, trying to spot his wand through the one good lens of his glasses. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Harry’s wand was laying on the pavement, only a few meters away. However, a good portion of those few meters was occupied by the wild-eyed Dudley, still throwing punches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop trying to run, Freak! I’m going to make sure that you know your place in the world, once and for all!” Dudley’s right fist rocketed towards him, just a bit slower than the other punches, so Harry attempted to duck past Dudley’s left. The explosion of pain in his stomach pushed all of his breath out of his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t try it, Freak! I’m the pride of Smelting’s boxing team. You’re going to pay for all the shit you’ve tried to pull recently. You used to know your place better, Freak, and I’m going to make sure you relearn it.” Dudley’s face was conformed into a mask of sneering hatred as he spoke, and he wound back for another shot. Harry backpedalled frantically, trying to find a way to his wand, when he saw them. Two figures covered in dark cloaks, which billowed in a nonexistent wind. In a panic, Harry outstretched his hand toward his wand, and screamed loudly the first thing that came to mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>ACCIO!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> The word was burned into his mind from hours of practice, hours spent summoning pillows from farther and farther away. Images of Hermione, looking proud as Harry’s spell yanked an item from her grasp. Images of Ron, a shocked look on his face as Harry summoned a chocolate frog from where it was traveling towards his mouth, then the two of them collapsing in laughter together. Images of a towering dragon covered in spikes, his trusty Firebolt speeding towards him. In an instant, Harry remembered these things, and the feeling that connected them. The thin tingling of magic, arcing through his body and out of his wand, the same feeling that was building in his chest as he screamed out the incantation.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“ACCIO!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> He roared, and almost immediately, his wand spun off of the ground and slammed into his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Move, Dudley.” Harry focused his wand on the Dementors over Dudley’s shoulder. A look of fear crossed Dudley’s face as the wand pointed up to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, so you can use more of your freakishness against me, Freak? Stop whatever you’re doing. Stop it now!” Dudley began to panic more as the two Dementors drew closer. Harry’s vision was beginning to flicker, and he could hear screams starting to invade his hearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>EXPECTO PATRONUM”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Harry’s bellow echoed around the empty street, with the etheral form of a stag blooming from the end of his wand. Dudley jerked back in terror, falling to the ground as he tried to scramble away. The stag charged at the floating forms of the Dementors, and they fled before it, trying desperately to escape the blinding light of it’s aura. The patronus cantered after them for a second, before beginning it’s return to Harry. He smiled slightly as it approached, reaching his hand out, ready to try to feel it’s ethereal hide. He was focused the patronus, and the memories and dreams of his father that it had brought with it, like always, and so, he never saw Dudley’s fist as it raced to meet his temple. The last thing he did see, was the pavement racing up to meet him, before everything went black.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 2 - Quite the Get-Away</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <em>A/N: Welcome back everyone. Last chapter, as I updated it on both sites, as this is cross-posted to both fanfiction.net and Archive of Our Own, I’ve realized that the sites claim there is, somehow, a nine word difference between the two versions. I have no clue how this happened, but it is an interesting fact. I moved into college yesterday, so let’s hope I can keep up with my posting schedule. Hopefully, it won’t be affected overly much. In any case, ladies/gentlemen/all others, please enjoy, chapter 2.</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chapter 2 - Quite the Get-Away</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry’s return to consciousness was abrupt. His nose was invaded by a very familiar smell, and his eyes flickered open. The sight he saw matched what he thought he smelled, and Harry sighed as he realized he was in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Quickly taking stock, Harry reached out to the table he knew would be holding his glasses, donning them quickly. Pushing up on his arms, Harry noticed someone was seated in the chair next to his bed. Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sat next to him, gently smiling over his steepled fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Harry, this is not how I expected to meet with you this evening.” His eyes sparkled with gently concealed mirth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do suppose you are wondering what occurred to have you here, in the tender mercies of Madam Pomphery.” Harry nodded slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It started with my arrival at the house of your aunt and uncle, slightly earlier than I had expected to arrive…”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Dumbledore knocked genially at the door of Number 4, Privet Drive, dressed in a neat, magenta, three-piece suit, complete with top hat and cane. Petunia Dursley opened the door slowly, then practically slammed it shut. Dumbledore’s cane quickly wedged itself in between the door and the frame, levering it open again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Petunia, my dear, it has been quite a while.” Dumbledore’s small smile never flickered as Petunia glared at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m quite sure your nephew has told you that I would be coming for him today. I am slightly early, so I must apologize for interrupting what must surely be a tearful goodbye, but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not here,” Petunia snapped out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I beg your pardon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s out right now. Not here.” Dumbledore’s expression shifted to one of slight surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, I suppose I must-” He stopped, turning slightly. Turning back to her, he said “I am afraid I must go, Mrs. Dursley. I am sorry for disrupting your evening earlier than planned.” Dumbledore began hastily moving off down the street, following a strange cold sensation, that was horribly familiar. He felt a burst of powerful magic wash across the street, quickening to a run. Sprinting, following the waves of magic, he stopped at the end of the street, watching as a glowing stag cantered directly to the young man he was searching for. Trying to catch his breath, he watched in horror as a fist connected directly with the temple of Harry Potter, sending him to the pavement. The glowing stag turned and attempted to charge the large boy who assaulted his summoner, fading from view just as it would’ve hit him. Dumbledore’s cane rippled, the glamor falling from it to reveal his wand, which whipped up to point at Dudley Dursley. A stunner flew, knocking the young thug out before he could continue to assault his now unconscious cousin. Dumbledore flicked out his wand again, an ethereal phoenix flying out, into the night. The aged headmaster, still trying to calm his breathing, approached the two boys laying on the ground. Flicking his wand at the two, they floated up into the air, as if carried by invisible stretchers. Casting another spell rapidly, the two disappeared from view, and Dumbledore began his trek back to Number 4, Privet Drive.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“...Unfortunately, your aunt and uncle were quite upset with the fact that I had stunned their son in order to keep him from grievously injuring you. So, I deposited your cousin with your aunt and uncle, and I brought you here, to enjoy the tender mercies of Madam Pomphrey.” Dumbledore’s genial smile didn’t change in the slightest throughout his tale, and Harry reached up to massage his temples.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, sir, this was not quite the way I expected the night to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fortunately, I was quickly able to prevent the Ministry from expelling you from Hogwarts, even though they seem to think your wand should be snapped. Something about breaking the Statute of Secrecy, or something similar…” Harry paused in his temple massaging, slowly turning to look at the </span>
  <em>
    <span>still smiling</span>
  </em>
  <span> Headmaster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, yes Harry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you planning on telling me that the Ministry was planning on snapping my wand and expelling me from Hogwarts before or after they attempted to do so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately, I’m telling you afterwards, as they already came and confiscated your wand.” At that, Dumbledore’s smile did disappear. “My quick talking was the only thing keeping them from snapping it in twain as you laid here in this bed. They are most likely scheduling your trial as we speak.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conveniently, an owl, bearing an envelope embossed with the Ministry’s coat of arms, flew through the window of the hospital wing as he said that. The owl allowed Dumbledore to pull the notice from his leg, then immediately vacated the area. The aged headmaster took a moment to read the letter, peering at it over his half-moon glasses, nodding at times, then closing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re giving us three days. Then we shall have to be at the Ministry, 10 o’clock, in Courtroom 10, in order to prevent them from formally filing your expulsion.” Dumbledore sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair, looking like he felt most of his 109 years. Harry leaned forward in his bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir,” he started. “I’m not quite sure how to phrase this, but, should I be here until then? You said Hogwarts had quite clear rules on students being here during the summer.” Dumbledore shifted slightly, some of his mirthful look returning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, Harry, while I’m sure we could bend the rules for a few days, in light of the extreme circumstances, I know a place you may be much more excited to spend the time until we must go to the Ministry. In fact, you might even find yourself wanting to spend the rest of the summer there.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The note was written in the Headmaster’s familiar looping script, and Harry looked up at him after reading it. The sidewalk they were standing on was surrounded by old houses, gloomy and decaying. The area was, quite frankly, a dump, in Harry’s opinion, but the Headmaster had insisted they were in the right location. Dumbledore, noticing Harry’s confused and slightly concerned look, simply gestured behind Harry, to the houses they were standing in front of. Harry turned, and gaped. Between the two houses he had seen on their arrival, slowly grew another house. Seeming to sprout, slowly pushing the first two houses apart, it turned into another faded townhouse, one that had seen much better days, based off of the faded opulence that it held above the other houses on the street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come, Harry. They’re waiting.” With that, Dumbledore began striding towards the front doorway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s waiting? Sir?”  Not receiving a response, Harry hurried to catch the older man, reaching him as he reached the door. Dumbledore reached up to grab the knocker on the door, slamming it down three times, then waiting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened slowly, revealing a red haired woman, just slightly shorter than Harry, covered in an apron with flour lightly covering it in some places. She looked between the two of them for a second, before scooping Harry into a crushing hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry, my dear, it is so good to see you! When the Professor sent us a message about how you were going to be delayed, and then how the blasted Ministry was insisting on charging you for self defense, oh, we were so worried dear.” Mrs. Weasley crushed Harry tightly to her, and he breathed in the familiar scents of cooking food and cleaning spells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m alright, Mrs. Weasley. Nothing to worry about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh but you must be hungry. Look at you, all skin and bones, I say. Come in, come in!” Harry and Dumbledore followed the Weasley matriarch into the rather gloomy entry hall of the house. Another voice rang out from the staircase at the end of the hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mrs. Weasley, is everything alright? I heard-” A familiar form came walking down the stairs, stopping suddenly on the last step. Before Harry could process much more, a human missile began rocketing towards them, slamming into Harry with enough force to stagger him. Hermione Granger wrapped him in a hug, before she began talking almost faster than Harry could understand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Harry, it’s so good to see you. The Professor sent us a message just a few hours ago about what that horrible cousin of yours did, and what the Ministry is doing, and I’m just so mad, and I’ll help you research everything for your defense, I mean, it should be a clear case of self defense, after all it’s not like you can use the Patronus spell for anything other than defending against Dementors and Lethifolds, oh but Professor Dumbledore did use it to send us the message I mentioned earlier, but other than that there are no other recorded uses, and-” Harry gently peeled himself from Hermione’s clinging grasp, grinning widely at the girl as she drew herself off in a tangent about practical uses of Patroni.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry?” In a doorway down the hall, a silhouette emerged. Harry looked to the figure as it entered the hall, before sprinting past Hermione as she began discussing the spell formula for the Patronus spell, practically throwing himself at the new person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sirius!”</span>
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